


Glimpses

by curiousitree



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: (at least i hope so), Additional Tags to Come, Blood, Character Growth, F/F, F/M, Gen, Murder, Poor Relationship Choices, Reluctant heroism, Vampirism, dark brotherhood regret, skyrim-standard levels of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25368868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiousitree/pseuds/curiousitree
Summary: Peeks at Soléne's life, not neccesarily in order. Years and locations are marked. Related/mostly prior to Blooms in Evening Star.
Relationships: various





	1. One (3E 432 - 4E 2)

3E 432  
Daggerfall

Pale blue eyes that had long since gone clouded stare up at the ceiling, unmoving, unblinking. Even devoid as they are of all life, there is grief etched into the pallid skin. Soléne stands from the bedside, numb, every one of her senses dimmed by the din of emotional chaos.

This is it. This is the last tether binding her to this place, to her life. With her brother gone, with her mother gone, nothing is tying her to this hovel anymore. For a moment, nothing tethers her to Nirn at all and then from the void, a breathtaking, blinding spear of cold, vengeful fury. If nothing is keeping her here, she wouldn't be staying.

The clues are few and far between, but they lead her to Cyrodiil. The trail ends with a man that had hired her brother to protect him as he investigated a ruin, a man that had left him there to die like he was less than a dog, a man who thought no one alive knew what he'd done.

She catches up with him in the Imperial City. She waits until he falls asleep. And then, she slits his throat and slips out the window.

3E 433  
Imperial City

A man comes to her in prison. She doubts for a moment he is even there, the cell is locked and the window is barred and he is not dressed like a guard. He offers the promise of family. She wants to replace the one she'd lost. She kills for him as soon as she's free again, and joins his family in the darkness.

4E 2  
Cheydinhal

Soléne dies. A kiss in the night, a request she can not accept, and a betrayal.

Nightmares reign any moment her eyes close. A nord man, trying to replace his dead daughter with a dunmer girl. Little Edwyn, promising this time he would be able to help their family instead of her. And blood. And blood, and blood.

The Brotherhood is not the family she'd hoped. Some jobs linger, weighing on her conscience, and the final one is almost as much a death as vampirism.

Each step away from Fort Farragut is a step closer to home, to more death she knows she'll never be able to let go of. Each step towards the Sanctuary convinces her she can not take another, and when she gets to Cheydinhal, she proves it by heading east instead, choosing to find a new home rather than bring death back into hers.


	2. Two (4E 3 - 4E 16)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fleeing the Dark Brotherhood at the turn of the era, Soléne heads east.

4E 3  
Vvardenfell

There is precious little work for a vampire in Morrowind, but Soléne finds some on the fringes of polite society. The Morag Tong control the assassinations of this province and the Brotherhood is weaker here, should they come for her. She accepts versatile payments, including training and blood, but she still struggles with her hunger and with the perceptions of society. Though, she does take relief in the change of scenery.

4E 5  
Morrowind

Exhaustion and hunger war for dominance as Soléne helps another family dig their possessions out of the ash.

She learns new healing spells, new resistances against heat, she turns every bit of knowledge she has about alchemy to aiding anyone who will accept her help. People are less biased against vampires when there is no one else there to help them.

Watching a province mourn drives home how fragile life is, how anything someone does can be the last thing they ever do. Watching loved ones tell stories about their loss reminds her how little anyone would have to say about her, how few people there would be to speak at all.

4E 16  
Cyrodiil

Xenophobia in Morrowind reaches a fever pitch that drowns out their decreasing need for and interest in foreign aid. Soléne is forced to keep to the wilds to avoid conflict as she leaves the province and hopes that the political unrest in Cyrodiil will hide her movements from the Dark Brotherhood as she passes through on her way back to High Rock.

Along the way, she helps anyone she meets, including an ambitious Colovian man who promises peace for Cyrodiil.


	3. Three (4E 17 - 4E 43)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solene realizes she has no one, but once she makes some contacts, she begins to feel the pull of an altruistic calling.

4E 17  
Imperial City

The Mede Empire rises from the ashes of the Septim one, and Soléne is uncertain if it is an improvement, despite her part in the events.

Order rises from chaos and, after accepting help with one hand, Titus Mede banishes her from the city with the other. The slightest sliver of resentment is tempered by her general agreement with his sentiments that order cannot be restored with vampires plaguing the very heart of the Empire.

4E 20  
The Great Forest

A grim futility and helplessness sets in. Soléne is unmade in her regret and her hunger. She preys like an animal, to spite the society that never let her in, even when she was mortal.

4E 30  
The West Weald

The Count of Skingrad takes action against assaults on travelers before Soléne has a chance to cause a problem with hunters or Vigilants in his county, almost as soon as she makes it out of the Great Forest.

A friendship grows from mutual loneliness and forced company as Soléne slowly comes back to herself and learns to master her curse, and the Count refuses to unleash a threat on his populace.

4E 42  
Skingrad

After spending the last couple years simmering in increasing tension about social responsibility and the rise of the Thalmor, Soléne leaves Skingrad on the eve of hearing about the Night of Green Fire.

4E 42  
Sentinel

Soléne arrives to blackened stone and charred wood, and the smell of smoke lingering in the air, even months after the fires had been snuffed out.

She searches for people who need healing but is largely too late. While helping the few people she’s able to find, she runs into another vampire with similar views and the two become fast friends. Soléne learns of the remnants of House Ravenwatch.

4E 43  
Rivenspire

Soléne joins House Ravenwatch and spends almost a century helping the people of Rivenspire and surrounding counties. She comes to terms with her vampirism almost entirely as she finds the balance between hunger and moderation.


	4. Four (4E 122)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soléne's first temporary break up with Théroigne following the Great Collapse of Winterhold.

4E 122  
Rivenspire

There was little enough traffic this far north, which meant little enough news from abroad, but some things carried even so. A city in Skyrim had just crumbled into the sea. To hear it told, the whole place was gone, and magic was behind it. 

Soléne had packed her few belongings. It was unlikely she would be able to help anyone this long after the Collapse, but the people that still lived would likely need help rebuilding. Morrowind had needed help, whether or not they’d admit it now. Sentinel had needed help when the Thalmor almost burned it to the ground. Cyrodiil had needed peace.

Théroigne caught her at the door and fell into step. “Where to?” She asked agreeably, much in the manner of someone who’d only asked where the wagon was headed after riding it for several minutes.

“Winterhold. You heard, haven’t you? It fell into the sea.”

Théroigne missed a step and fell a pace behind. “Oh, this again? You can’t run off after every natural disaster.”

Soléne stopped, turned, and fixed her with a glare. “Wh-I’m not! I have never–”

“Oh, it was a petty political squabble last time, I’m sorry, my mistake.” Théroigne stopped too and put her hands on her hips while Soléne’s glare increased in intensity. “Listen, okay, I know you want to help everywhere, but you can’t. And pulling yourself apart like this is going to drive you mad. Pick one–”

“‘Pick one place and stick to it, it’s worked for us for centuries and it’ll work for you too just blah blah blah’.” Soléne interrupted irritably, tired of hearing it, first from Janus and now from Ravenwatch.

“Well, it does!” Théroigne snapped testily.

“It doesn’t work for me.”

“Damn it, Soléne. I’m not trying to stifle you or command your movements, and I admire your zeal, but _please._ Listen.”

Soléne sighed and rolled her eyes, but made no further attempt to interrupt.

“You know it can be dangerous to involve ourselves too deeply, alright, I get it. But do you know why?”

“Because you don’t want to be run out of town by an angry torch-wielding mob.” The reply was automatic, recited, and disinterested. Soléne had managed to survive almost a hundred and fifty years without being on the wrong side of any mobs so far and she had her doubts. Not doubts that it could ever happen, that would be clear hubris, but doubts that short term relief jobs were likely to bring about anything of the sort.

“Obviously. Now what’s the main reason?”

Soléne did a double take and turned her focus entirely to Théroigne. Her pride held her tongue as she thought of possible answers, but could voice none with confidence.

Théroigne gave her a sympathetic look that was somehow both grating and reassuring. “It’s not about being run out of town by a mob. It’s because we will never be one of them. It’s because no matter how involved we are, no matter how much good we do, how many lives we change, those lives barely last a season.”

“So, what then, we do nothing because their lives are shorter than ours?” Most of the sharpness in Soléne’s tone had evaporated, but the doubt and skepticism remained.

“No…” Théroigne extended her hand back towards the door, inviting Soléne to continue the conversation in more comfortable accommodations. When Soléne didn’t move, she dropped her arm in exasperation and continued anyway. “Of course not. But we mustn’t overextend ourselves for the affairs of those who would, at best not help us in return, and at worst would repay us with violence.”

“I don’t care what they pay me with. I can’t just do nothing.”

“What will you do then? Raise this city out of the ocean again?”

Soléne opened her mouth to speak and then fell silent for a time. “There has to be something,” she eventually muttered, half for her own benefit as much as Théroigne’s. 

“There is plenty here.” Théroigne supplied softly, offering Rivenspire’s impoverished for aid. Soléne sighed and looked towards the road as they lapsed into a moment of silence.

“It’s not about our bodies, Soléne. Can you imagine losing everyone you’ve ever gotten close to, again and again, for centuries? And I’m not even telling you not to make those contacts, just to be safe and to not reach too far to make them. Regret is maddening. The past will grip tight and _never_ let you go again if you allow it. We must look forward. The empires of men will rise and fall, and yet we remain. _How_ do _you_ want to remain? Crippled by what ifs? Broken by what could have been, what could have been done differently? Vampires are a living legacy. Do not diminish yours by tying your fate to mortals.”

Soléne sighed, not sure how to answer, and the two of them slipped into another silence where Théroigne leaned against the exterior wall and Soléne shifted her weight and weighed her choices. What was she realistically expecting? She’d learned a number of spells from Janus and Théroigne but she didn’t know a mage alive or dead who could pull a city out of the ocean. How many survivors would there be? How many injuries would there be? How many people would still need help, even after the time it took for her to make it there? Would they welcome aid from a foreigner? From a vampire? Red Mountain came unbidden to her mind, ash and fire and screams, and people she couldn’t save.

“My legacy will not be regret that I saw a chance to act and didn’t.” Soléne finally answered, resolved.

“Fine, fine, see your frozen ruin. And then come home. We’ll miss you dearly, and you’ll have plenty to do here upon your return.” Théroigne sighed and shrugged, and turned towards the door before hesitating a moment longer. “Please don’t get killed. You _do_ mean a lot to me.”


	5. Five (4E 180)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the Great War.

4E 180

Rihad

War is over.

Soléne is fortunate enough to be in sight of the coast to watch the Thalmor ships withdraw. They shrink against the horizon, and a bloodied but not beaten province celebrates but too soon turns inward to nurse its wounds.

She approaches a makeshift convoy headed inland and asks after their destination.

"Home" is the consensus she hears.

And she wonders where hers is. Not here in Hammerfell. Cyrodiil? High Rock?

Her feet start the journey east before she has a decisive answer.


End file.
